I flinch as the memory fades, like a dream slipping through my fingers. The cold grip of that man's voice, the sting of his hand on my skin—it's all too real, yet it's slipping away.
Why am I remembering that now? It's been so long. I haven't thought of it, not consciously anyway. I thought I had buried it deep enough.
The cool air around me pulls me back into the present, the quiet of the room a stark contrast to the chaos of my thoughts. I shake my head slightly, pushing the memory aside. I need to focus. I need to be here. Now.
I don't remember falling asleep.
Only the blur. The way mana pulled at the edges of me like threads about to unravel. Julius's back under my arms, his warmth grounding me while everything else slipped sideways.
Now, I wake to quiet.
Cool air brushes against my face. Linen sheets. A faint hum of containment magic in the room—protective, not confining. My body aches. Not a sharp, unbearable pain—more like a bruised throb spread through my ribs and shoulder, dull but deep. My mana feels like it's limping. There, but weak. Like a lantern with oil nearly gone.
I shift slightly. A soft sound escapes my throat before I can stop it.
The hand holding mine tightens instantly.
"You're awake," Julius says, voice soft.
I squeeze his hand weakly in return. "Yeah."
The world around me is hazy with dark blurs bleached white at the edges. I blink, and shapes begin to sharpen—edges of mana, pulsing softly. Julius sits at my side, solid and bright. His mana wraps around him like flame tempered with restraint. Warm. Steady.
I shift again—slowly this time. Testing the ache in my limbs. I push against the mattress, spine shaking under the effort, and begin to sit up. It's not graceful. It hurts. My left arm quivers, and my ribs scream in dull protest, but I get there. Upright. Breathing through it.
"You sure?" Julius asks quietly.
"Yeah," I whisper, though my pulse stings behind my eyes.
At the end of the bed, Dr. Lorre's mana pulses—neat and measured, tinged with residual stress. Kate's nearby too, her presence like wind held in tension.
"You've been unconscious for a week," Dr. Lorre says, stepping forward. "Fractured shoulder, bruised ribs, mana exhaustion, and some spatial recoil damage. Space magic must leave a toll, Annabel. You have to understand that when you use that and get injured, we do not have knowledge to help you."
Her voice is clinical but not cold. Focused, but not sharp. She sounds like someone who's been here often. Someone who stayed.
Then she says, a little softer, "Julius hasn't left this room."
I pause.
And I hear it.
A shift in his breath. His heartbeat—usually a slow, steady rhythm—is just a little faster now. Not much. But enough.
I turn toward him, blinking back the light blur.
"I… thanks," I murmur, my voice catching. "For carrying me. For taking charge. When Salem appeared…"
I don't even think about it.
I just lean forward—slow, deliberate—and wrap both arms around his middle, burying my face in the worn fabric of his coat.
It hurts to move like this. My body protests. But I don't care.
"Thank you," I whisper again.
Julius freezes for half a second—completely still.
Then his arms wrap around me gently. He's careful, like I might break if he presses too hard. His voice rumbles above me, warm and low.
"It was your space magic that saved us in the end," he says. "That, and Daniel's complete disregard for safety."
I laugh a little. It hurts. But it's real.
Kate huffs behind us. "He really did throw himself at that demon like a lunatic."
Dr. Lorre sighs like she's not sure whether to scold or commend him. "He's lucky he only dislocated his arm."
Julius leans back just enough to meet my blurred gaze. He doesn't let go of my hand.
"You're not alone out there," he says, quiet but firm.
I nod slowly.
The air settles again. I wish i could see the sky and sun but in this life i can only feel it warming my face.
And for the first time since that cave, I let myself breathe.
The moment softens, but the tension hasn't left the room. Julius lets go of the hug slowly, but his hand stays wrapped around mine—solid and warm, his mana steady like banked fire. I ease back against the pillows, muscles sore and joints stiff, and shift my focus outward.
Kate's the first to speak. Her voice is even, but tight. "While you were out, things moved fast."
I turn my head slightly, tracking the sharp, layered wind signatures wrapped around something deeper—stone-like and grounded. Her earth mana is subdued, guarded. Defensive, but not hostile.
"The scroll'," she says. "Delivered straight to the Elf King."
I blink. "Already?"
Dr. Lorre steps closer. I feel her presence before I hear her—a gentle wave of healing mana washing toward me. Measured. Familiar now. Water, softly lapping at the edges of stone.
"The moment you stabilized," she confirms. "Something like that doesn't stay hidden long. Especially not with the kind of power it radiates."
Kate snorts. "They pulled us all in one by one. Statements, magical verification, everything short of dragging us in front of a tribunal."
"Even Daniel?" I ask quietly.
"Especially Daniel," she mutters. "He nearly shattered a tea table demonstrating how he punched a Stage Two demon across the cave."
Julius doesn't laugh, but I feel the flicker in his heartbeat. He's still right next to me—closer than anyone else—his hand warm around mine.
I tilt my head slightly in his direction. "So what happens now?"
He answers before the others can. "The King wants to meet you."
My breath pauses in my throat. "Me?"
"You," Dr. Lorre says. "You've made an impression, Annabel. First the trial. Then this mission. And now a scroll powerful enough to shift the kingdom's balance, retrieved by a blind child with elemental mana control and spatial casting."
There's no judgment in her voice—just fact.
Kate adds, "Some people think you're dangerous. Others think you're a miracle."
I curl my fingers slightly against the blanket. "I didn't ask to be either."
"I know," Julius says, and his mana glows a little warmer. "But they won't care what you asked for."
Dr. Lorre folds her arms. I hear the rustle of her coat. "The King isn't calling you as a threat. Not yet. But he wants answers. To understand how a seven-year-old helped hold off a Stage Two demon when entire squadrons were taken out by what we assume was also her."
"They're looking for something," Kate murmurs. "Proof. Or a weakness."
I hesitate. "And the others?"
Julius nods slightly. "Everyone who was there gave their account. Lirael. Wyn. Daniel. Kate. Me."
He pauses—just long enough to make me curious.
"Even Rolim."
My brows lift slightly. "He vouched for me?"
Kate's mana flickers like a gust of wind hitting stone. "Reluctantly. His exact words were, 'She's a brat, but she didn't run. Can't fault that.'"
I let out a small breath. Almost a laugh.
Dr. Lorre's tone softens. "He may not like you. But he respected what you did. They all did."
I frown. "They'll only believe what I show them."
Silence stretches.
Then Julius leans in just a little more, his voice low and sure. "They already know you have space magic now, we had to tell the king, as royal mages we are not allowed to lie, but—don't show them everything."
I can't see his face. But I can feel the quiet flame in his mana—anchored and fierce. Protective.
"Just enough to remind them you're more than they expect," he says. "But not enough to become what they fear."
Kate's mana hums—agreement wrapped in caution. "Mystery keeps them guessing. That's a kind of power, too."
Dr. Lorre moves even closer. Her mana shifts—focused, precise. "We'll be there when you meet the King. But it's your voice they want. So choose your truths, Annabel."
I nod slowly.
Some truths I'll speak. The others—I'll keep stitched beneath my skin.